Serial in Neptune
by Sarah.Heath
Summary: There is a serial killer in Neptune and Veronica stumbles on the case. Story takes place after the series final. Veronica and Logan eventually. LOVE
1. Approaching Storm

Story: Serial in Neptune

Chapter Title: Approaching Storm

Content: Warning contains violence

Disclaimer: I do not own Veronica Mars or any of its characters

Plot: There is a serial killer in Neptune and Veronica stumbles on the case. Story takes place after the series final. Veronica and Logan eventually

"Approaching Storm"

September 6th 2008 (Present Day)

He just had to be patient and wait. After all, patience was a virtue any good hunter needs. If you move too quickly you're prey will catch on and escape. That was not an outcome that he wanted. He had spent too much time studying his targets, and this pair excited him. There was so much potential between the two of them for his little experiment and this time he got it right. He hated it when they failed him, but you can't make an omelet without breaking some eggs first. Failure was an integral element of advancement. It was part of the nature of man to learn the best when faced with the truth of a failure, and he certainly had some of those. Still . . . watching them from the back seat of his car through his binoculars, he knew that this time he had chosen correctly.

They were so cute and innocent with hands intertwined like the lovers they were. The expression of love was unmistakable on their faces. He had been studying the pair long enough to know their routine by heart. After their weekly diner out at Louis's Restaurant the couple would walk across the street for some frozen yogurt followed by a walk through the park. As he watched, that feeling deep down in the pit of his stomach began to grow. Soon, very soon.

This is what he lived for . . . the hunt and thirst for knowledge. He wanted to understand and dissect them until they revealed their secrets. All year round he waited in anticipation for September; the beginning of his hunting season. He was always saddened when December came to a close and he put away all his toys for another year. Sighing, he packed away his binoculars in the black leather case they came in knowing he needed to get ready for the next stage.

* * *

The early September air is cooler than I expected considering it's usually hot in Neptune this time of the year. There was enough chill in the air to make me put on my favorite olive colored jacket over my blue and black stripped shirt. It's the first day back of my second year at Hearst College. Spending the summer in New York working with the FBI had been far less of the exciting inside job I had hoped it would be. Instead, the copy machine and I got rather cozy and I learned that FBI agents like their coffee thick as tar. Early on in the summer as a side project, I had done some PI work and managed to catch William Coffer a well known cocaine dealer and pimp in the act in Brooklyn. In reality, the FBI had been less than pleased with my display of initiative than I thought they would be. You think they would have been grateful that I put a criminal behind bars. The director of the internship had threatened to send my petite ass home early if I so much as looked into a speeding ticket. I played nice for the rest of the summer, but now I felt uncertain if the FBI was the right path for me. There were rules to being in the FBI; I'm not really a rule follower. I'm Veronica Mars, a girl who lives for chasing down the truth, rules be damned.

Dad is worried that one of these days I am going to drop the dream of being an FBI agent all together in favor for the freedom that PI work has. Dad wants something more for me than his life. Currently, Dad and I are going through a rough patch. He lost the election to Vinnie Van Lowe, and we both know it's because he had destroyed evidence that I broke onto Kane property. We rarely speak anymore. Being away in New York all summer didn't help; neither did getting in over my head again. Dad had been even more furious at me for pursuing William Coffer. Now, everything that's not being spoken between us keeps getting bigger and bigger. One of these days it's going to burst and spew gooey badness all over our relationship. Either that or the gaping chasm between us will get so big that we won't know how to cross it.

The problems with my Dad have been weighing heavily on my mind, but I cannot think about that now. Fixing our relationship is going to take time, and I know that. I've screwed up a time or two and Dad is no longer quick to forget. I cost him big this time . . . his dream to be Sheriff again. I can click my ruby red heals all I want and rub an oil lamp or two, but I cannot take back what happened. At the same time though, I'm hurt that he's giving me the Antarctic shoulder.

For now, I have to focus on school. Today is a new beginning and a chance for a new Veronica. I'm free and single, having broken up with Piz in the middle of my internship. After the fight between him and Logan things were never the same between us. I stopped pretending we had a future and so did he. Now were friends . . . awkward friends, but it was something. I tried to move on . . . what can I say? I've always been a get back on the horse kind of girl. I started to see this guy named Josh Stewart, who was also in my FBI internship program. The relationship never even made it off the ground and instead crashed and burned like so many others before it. He just reminded me too much of a certain bad boy from my past and I just couldn't take it. Now I'm going to walk the single line for a while. The drama of dating simply isn't worth it; frankly my heart just isn't into it either.

"Veronica! Veronica!" my name is called somewhere behind me.

Smiling, I turned to see my long time friend, Mac, running to catch up.

"Hey, Mac-attack. How have you been? Hack into the CIA lately?" Mac smiles; amused by my joke. I wonder if she really has managed to hack into the CIA. I wouldn't put it past her capabilities.

"Of course, their security is a piece of cake," Mac scoffs. I nod, but most of my mind is taking in the subtle differences in my best girl friend. Mac seems more mature somehow, less teen and more of a maturing strong woman. "So, Bond, glad to be back at old Hearst college?"

I shrug, "Yeah, what can I say, I knew the place wouldn't be the same without me. Who would catch all the rapists, cheaters, murderers, and the occasional dog-nappers?"

Mac laughs, "I've missed you Veronica. It was boring all summer without you. So, how did it go with the FBI? Did you catch any other drug lords?"

"Apparently, the FBI does _not_ appreciate a nineteen year old girl having a notorious cocaine dealer on the run for years being caught with a simple pretend phone call from a stripper named Mindy. I had to sit on my hands and make copies and coffee for the rest of the summer after my little bust. It was boring really. So, are you headed for class?"

"Actually, I'm going to grab a bite to eat with Max. My next class is in an hour, computer graphics. I had Western Civilization this morning. You?"

"Criminal Behavior in the United States in ten minutes," I announces after checking my watch.

"Sounds like your kind of class. Have you heard from Wallace yet?" Mac asks and shifts her shoulder bag, which is loaded down with books much like my own.

"His flight gets in tonight. The first one got canceled for some reason." Wallace's Mother had called me yesterday to say he was delayed.

"Okay, I hope he had a good time in Africa. We'll, I'll let you get to class. It would be bad to be late on the first day," Mac says and then ways goodbye heading in the direction of the cafeteria.

* * *

Sighing, I pack up my laptop while all my fellow students copy me in a mad rush to get out the door. It's the first day, and Professor Kindren has already assigned a paper due next week. Just as I'm questioning my chosen major, he has to come along and demand a three page paper explaining why I chose Criminology as my major. Thanks Professor, really. Do I tell him about Lilly and how her death drove me to find her murderer? Scratch that, too personal. How about that my Dad is a PI and so am I? No, not really. I shake my head as I follow the others out of the big lecture room.

All I know is one class down and I'm already ready to go home. Too bad I have to go to my second job, the one at the Library. After that I have Greek Art, a mandatory class, and then I'm free. I weave in and out of buildings being somewhat aware of my surroundings, but still in a daze deep in thought. At least I'm not getting the stares and whispers that plagued me before summer started. No more cheerleading jokes or lewd innuendoes by gross perverse guys. It seems that my video with Piz has long been forgotten. Sure, I occasionally get the "you look familiar, but I can't quite place you" stare, but it's better than hushed tones and giggles.

The wind pushes against me and I momentarily pause enjoying the sensation on my back . . . and then I see him. Despite my efforts to keep my head down before either being spotted or spotting anyone, I see him. It's like I have radar or something. Logan Echolls. How can one person invoke so much emotion, pain, and longing? He haunts me just as much as Lilly's ghost had before I solved her death, only this is worse. Logan Echolls wasn't a case to solve because I had already figured it out. We were destined to be together in an endless nauseating cycle, like riding the teacups at the carnival over and over. At first it's all fun and games . . . and then you just want to get off and go up-chuck your corndog in the nearest trashcan. Logan and I were doomed to date, fight, break up, date other people, break up with them, and then date again. Every time we tried to leave each other behind we inevitably wound up back together like two magnets. Logan knew we were destined before I did; he called us epic. So far we've been living up to the name.

I've tried to date other men . . . safe men. You know the type: dependable, stable, and boring . . . like Piz. He's a sweet guy meant to date a sweet girl. I've been accused of a lot of things, but "sweet-good girl" I am not. I'm the rule breaker blond with pack of enemies in my wake and trouble as a middle name. Logan, well he's a great guy, but he's no boy scout. Logan Echolls lives to the beat of his own drum and follows his own quirky of-the-beaten-path. We are one and the same in many ways. Perhaps that's why we are so drawn together . . . two twin souls. Or maybe it's our past thick with history. Lilly's death bonded us in a way that no one else could ever touch upon.

Like Mac, he too has changed over the summer months. Somehow Logan looks older, but more haunted then mature. He has more facial hair than the last time I saw him . . . not enough for it to be considered a beard, but just enough to make him look rugged. A brief image of Logan when we were sixteen flashes through my mind . . . the boy he was then compared to the man I see across the quad. He doesn't see me or anyone for that matter. Usually Logan walks with his head held high . . . daring anyone to try and test him. Today, he just looks tired. I wonder what happened over the course of the summer to give him that look. We have not spoken since that day in the cafeteria. A part of me wants to cross the distance between us and fix all his problems. I have always wanted to save him. I believe psychologists call that a savior complex, but I know he's always tried to save me too.

Someone calls him name somewhere to my left, and Logan jerks his head up looking for the caller. Instead, spots me. I stare back like a deer caught in the headlights unable to look away. His eyes burrow into mine so intensely it's almost as if he's touching me. I know him so well that I know exactly what his eyes are saying . . . _I'm sorry. I've missed you. Please forgive me._ It's just too much. If I don't leave now I'll be late for work. Logan's gaze sifts away from me as Dick finally catches up to him. I take the moment to slip away, ducking into the building next to me. Yep, still plenty of drama there. It's hard to stay away from Logan . . . that whole magnetic attraction, but I'm tired to riding the teacups round-and-round in circles. I honestly just want to get off.

* * *

It's seven at night before I've parked my Saturn outside of the Fennel house. The exhaustion I had been feeling towards the end of my Greek art class has faded and replaced with excitement. I feel a bounce in my step as I walk up and knock on the door. I have missed Wallace over the summer while he was in Uganda. We spoke only once during the summer since calling the US is hard. I am proud of him, but I'm also happy to have him home.

The door opens and I am greeted by Alicia's smiling face. "Veronica!" She quickly ushers me inside.

"Well if it isn't Veronica Mars," Wallace says to me from the couch grinning ear to ear as he quickly stands.

"Who is this man? Look at you all grown," I say to him and quickly cross the distance to give my best friend a huge hug. It seems that everyone around me has changed over the summer, and Wallace is no different. He's taller than I last remembered making me suddenly more aware of my height-deficiency. I wonder if I've changed too.

"V, either I've grown or you've shrunk."

I simply smile at him. "Well now you're being mean to me when I have presents for you." I dig around in my shoulder bag and pull out a plain manila folder and hand it to him along with a green tin.

"What's this?" He sounds cautious . . . oh how well my BF knows me.

"Well, I didn't want you to get behind so I took the liberty to track down all your professors today and get you the syllabuses and notes that you missed. The tin contains your favorite cookies. Welcome back, buddy."

"Thanks, V." Wallace gives me another quick hug. A second later he opens the tin and begins going to town on the snicker doodles I baked him.

"You hungry, Veronica?" Alicia asks. I turn to answer and finally notice that my Dad is standing next to her. My mouth hangs open for a moment as I try to process. Dad has been avoiding me like the plague since I came home from New York. I thought he was out of town on an infidelity case, but I guess I'm not privy anymore to updates on his whereabouts. The fact that he came home without telling me stings a little.

"Oh, nope, I actually ate," My Dad finally looks over at me and gives me a slight nod. I try to smile, but I'm sure it comes off as more of a grimace. Turning back to my best friend I can see it in his eyes that he knows Dad and I are not talking.

"Hey, V . . . would you mind giving me a hand with something?" Wallace asks. He gets up off the couch and heads for his room knowing I would follow.

I spare a glance back at my Dad, but he's now talking to Alicia. I can tell they are quietly arguing from their tense poses. Feeling a pang in my chest, I quickly leave heading for Wallace's room. When I get there my best friend is sitting on his bed patiently waiting for me.

"So . . . you care to tell me what's going on? My Mom said you and your Dad aren't talking." He's blunt, which is something I can appreciate. Wallace and I are past avoidance in our friendship.

"Yeah . . . well . . ." I stumble not knowing where to start. Wallace pats the bed next to him and I walk over and sit down. "You know that my Dad lost another election?" He nods. "You know that it was sort of my fault . . ." Wallace's eyes light up with understanding.

"He blames you." It's a statement and not a question.

"That's not all . . . I got into a big of a mess during my internship. I took down a drug dealer and the FBI threatened to ship me home. They called Dad . . . and he really didn't take it well. We had a huge fight . . . something about me always sticking my nose into places it doesn't belong and that one of these days it would get me in over my head." I leave out the part where Dad said that I only ever think of myself and never the consequences that my actions may have on others. "Since then . . . he hasn't hardly spoken to me at all."

"I'm sorry V . . . that sucks." Wallace gives my shoulder a quick squeeze.

"Oh . . . and in case you didn't know Piz and I broke up. We're going to be friends though, so you don't have to worry about it being awkward with him being your roommate again this year."

"I figured you two wouldn't last . . . no offense."

I shrug, "None taken. If I had been more honest with myself I would have seen it too. So, now I'm going to be single and have a hundred cats. What do you think of my plan, Wally?"

"Well first off don't call me Wally . . . and second I thought you didn't like cats being a dog person an all."

"Enough about me how was Uganda?" I smile as his eyes light up.

"It was amazing and so unlike anything I've ever experienced. It's like a whole different world there V. On the one hand the land and country is beautiful, but on the other what's going on there is so ugly and horrific. It's really hard to describe."

"How did the project go? Did you finish the school?"

"Yep, I, Wallace Fennel, helped build a school. Of course a lot of the foundation was there when we started. It's amazing how quickly we were able to build. The school is opening in two weeks. I wish I could have been there to see it."

"Well I'm proud of you Fennel," I tell him and give him another hug.

"Thanks, supafly," he says and I can't help but laugh. That nickname always tickled my funny bone. I don't let go of Wallace instantly. I'm not a big hugger, but I have been so lonely without him or my dad. "V?" His voice is tense and worried. My eyes tear up and I hug him tighter as if that could banish the tears.

We sit there for a few minutes. It's quiet except for my sobbing. Eventually, I pack all my emotions back inside. I put away each layer of hurt and pain until all I'm left with is my mask. When it's fully back in place I pull out of Wallace's arms. I wipe away at my eyes hating having anyone see me cry, but comfortable that if someone has to see it at least it's my best friend.

"I'm okay now. Thanks, Wallace. You're a good friend."

"Any time Veronica."

"I should get going. I'm sorry to leave so soon," I say as I get to my feet.

"Don't worry about it. I'll walk you to your car."

I nod as we exit his room. When we get to the kitchen only Alicia is there doing the dishes. She glances at me once. Her eyes are full of sadness for me, and it's too much to bear. I look away and walk faster out the door while mumbling goodnight to her. I don't say anything or glance back at my best friend trails behind me.

"Goodnight, V" he says as I pull the door of my car open.

I force a smile on my face. "Night . . . and welcome back to Neptune, Wallace." He gives me a two fingered salute as I climb into the car and drive away.

* * *

Will write for reviews. Let me know what you think. Seriously, just drop a line.


	2. Missing

Story: Serial in Neptune

Chapter Title: "Missing"

Content: Warning contains violence

Disclaimer: I do not own Veronica Mars or any of its characters

"Missing"

September 7th

"_This morning, Samantha Floor, the young girl pictured here has been officially reported missing. Samantha is a senior at Hearst College. She was last seen in the park on Main Street with her boyfriend, Colin Drew, who is also missing. Police suspect that Colin might have something to do with this young girl's disappearance. If anyone has any information concerning Samantha or Colin please call the police immediately." _

I stare at the two pictures side by side. Samantha is a beautiful girl with long strawberry blond hair and bright blue eyes. She looks like a sweet girl. Colin looks upset and almost angry in his photo as if he has had a really bad day. Still, he's a handsome guy with Greek statue cheeks and jaw. His sandy hair is curly and kept in a surfer cut. I wonder if Samantha is okay . . . hung over somewhere with her boyfriend completely oblivious that the world is looking for them . . . it happens sometimes in Neptune. I certainly hope that's the case and that the she is found quickly and alive. The alternative is horrible to think . . . that this girl might have been abducted or worse by the man she loves.

I sigh and take my bowl of soggy cereal to the sink and dump it down the drain. Dad is already gone for work. We're living in the same apartment, but we hardly ever see each other. He's never home anymore. Dad splits his time between Mars Investigation and the Fennell house. I need to start looking for an apartment because I can't do this for long. It's too late to try and get a dorm room on campus this semester. I would have to get another job . . . or take more cases to afford a crap-place apartment. Neither is a good prospect. I know I can take on a bigger workload . . . after all I managed in high school, but it's not something I'm looking forward to.

Leaving the apartment I try and put all my emotional baggage away for the day. I have Introduction to Biology, which is a required course, and then Theories and Practices of Crime and Criminology. First though, I have work at the Library. There's nothing like working a boring job to help pay for school. On the bright side I'm supposed to meet up with Mac and Wallace for lunch.

* * *

I get to Biology early and take a table in the back of the classroom. Its quiet and I can work on my current case in peace while eating my bag of chips and a Yoo-Hoo to wash it all down . . . definitely the snack of champions. Plugging my headphones into my laptop I select my favorite working mix playlist. It's upbeat and helps to pass the time while I hunt for villains and answers.

While the music drowns out all that can distract me, I click on the folder on my desktop labeled "Mitchelle" an infidelity case. While I'm on a job all else just floats gently away. This is what I'm good at, finding the truth. I peruse over my photos from the night before. No shot of Mr. Mitchelle cheating on his wife, but I had found some else other than infidelity for once. Mr. Mitchelle wasn't working late at the office, or checking into a dive hotel to have a little non-marital fun. Instead, he has been driving to another job at "Happy Chicken" to help keep his struggling family going.

I hesitate briefly before composing an email to his wife with a picture of Mr. Mitchelle on the job. It's obvious this man has his pride and is ashamed to admit to his wife that they are in trouble. I don't attach the financial record I uncovered . . . the couple can sort that out themselves. I've done my job, which was to prove to Mrs. Mitchelle if her husband of six years was cheating on her or not.

Movement at the front of the room takes my focus off the job. I look up figuring another early bird student has just trampled on my alone time. My breath hitches and my heart stutters as Logan walks into my Biology class. He pauses hesitantly at the door after spotting me, and we stare at each other both frozen into place too shocked to look away. Then, he smirks. It's that mischievous smile I loathe and love all at the same time. It sends a literal chill down my spine and I force myself to break eye contact. I don't want Logan to know how strongly he affects me, but he probably does. From my peripheral vision, I can see him walking over to my table in the back.

"Veronica, will you be my lab partner?" he asks in a fake girly singsong voice. I glare at him as he sits down presuming that I'm okay with it. "What? You're not still mad at me over the whole Piz thing are you?"

At first I want to yell at him that I don't want to be his damn lab partner, but I can't. The problem is that I get mad at Logan all the time . . . I just can't _stay_ mad at him. Eventually, I just smile and shake my head. Fate has a twisted sense of humor and apparently so do I, or at least that's how I'm going to look at this situation . . . with humor.

"Nope," I say stressing the "p" on the word. "That's ancient history."

Logan smiles at my words and I see his shoulders relax. "Good to hear. So, Miss Mars, what did you do all summer?"

"New York working with the FBI." He doesn't look surprised so I guess he already knew.

"Hum . . . sounds interesting. How did Piz take you being gone all summer?" Logan pulls out his laptop and sets it up next to mine. I'm surprised that he's here . . . in class instead of surfing. What's even more surprising is that he's early for a class.

"Piz and I broke up," I say casually as if it's no big deal. I cannot look at Logan as I say this. I reach into my shoulder bag just to avoid seeing the expression on his face.

"Oh, that's too bad . . . he seemed like a great guy that Piz," the sarcasm is dripping from his words.

I glare at him not wanting to do this, "Logan."

He throws his hands up in an apologetic manner. "Sorry, Veronica . . . couldn't help it. I never did like that guy. But let's not talk about him; let's talk about how your internship went." I don't want to talk about that with Logan either.

"Boring actually, I spent most of my time with the copy machine." It's not the whole story, but it's not a lie. Mac told me that Logan and Parker broke up before summer break started. Has he moved onto another girl? "What about you? How was your summer?"

"Hum . . . let's see," he says with a dramatic flourish while drumming his fingers on the table. "I spent the whole time here in Neptune. I was supposed to go on this surfing trip with Dick, but that got canceled. So, instead I surfed here."

"Why did the trip get canceled? I figure Dick would be all over surfing."

"Where have you been, Ronnie? His Dad turned himself into the police. Dick stayed in Neptune to spend what time his Dad had left as a free man together." His use of my nickname pulls me back in time. Soon my mind is swimming in memories . . . memories of us. How did I miss Mr. Casablancas giving himself up to the police?

"How did Dick take all that?" I ask Logan finally sending that email to Mrs. Mitchelle before I forgot. No proof no money, and I need money.

"Not good. He pretends to be okay but . . ." Logan trails off and I can see in his eyes he's worried. I don't say anything back . . . I have a hard time feeling bad for Dick Casablancas.

It's silent for a moment both of us searching for something to fill in the awkward silence. It never used to be difficult talking to Logan. We were always able to talk effortlessly for hours. Even when we were mortal enemies both of us were quick with a witty remark or two. We aren't friends . . . not really. It's hard being just friends with someone you've slept with. Logan and I can't go back to hating each other either . . . there is just too much intimacy between us.

"Well . . . this is awkward," I say just to acknowledge the elephant in the room.

Logan laughs and the sound warms my heart. "What were you expecting?" I shrug having no comeback for that one. "Veronica . . . are you doing okay? I mean really?"

Taken back by his question, I look into Logan's warm brown eyes. I can see that he's truly concerned and I can't figure out why. "Sure, you know me."

"Yeah, I do . . . and that's the problem. You seem . . . distant somehow."

"I'm right here, Logan." I wave my arms around to prove a point.

Logan frowns at me. Somehow I just know we're gearing up for an argument. However, before he can say anything else the Professor walks into the classroom and the subject is dropped. It doesn't take long after that for the room to fill with students. Logan and I barely speak focusing on the experiment and avoiding the topic we were on earlier.

* * *

"Did you hear about the missing girl?" Mac asks Wallace and me the second she sits down at the table in the cafeteria with her slice of pepperoni pizza.

"Yeah . . . I caught the report about it this morning . . . any news about them yet?" I ask and attempt to twirl my spaghetti around a plastic spork.

"What girl?" Wallace asks with a mouth full of taco.

"Gross, Wallace. Mouth closed please," I tell him teasingly.

"She's a senior at Hearst . . . I don't remember her name, just that her and her boyfriend are missing and that the police think the boyfriend had something to do with it." Mac explains and then takes a bite out of her pizza.

"Her name is Samantha Floor," I add.

"That's horrible. I hope she's okay. Do you think the police will find her?" Wallace asks looking at me.

I shrug. "Maybe . . . Vinnie can't be as incompetent as Lamb was as sheriff. He's also not big on following the rules of the law." I wasn't really sure what kind of sheriff Vinnie would turn out to be.

"How does your Dad feel about losing the election?" Mac asks innocently. I haven't told her yet about the problems Dad and I are having.

Suddenly spaghetti doesn't sound so good. "He's bummed." I don't elaborate any further. It's not that I don't want to talk to and confide in Mac . . . it's just that I've filled my quota for talking about personal life drama for at least a week.

Wallace senses that I feel uncomfortable and comes to my aide. "So, Mac . . . I thought that boyfriend of yours was meeting up with us for lunch." I give Wallace a smile showing my appreciation.

"He was . . . but he had some work related stuff come up," Mac says hesitantly. She seems just as uncomfortable now as I was a second ago. Are she and Max having problems?

"Logan is in my bio class," I blurt out. Now they are both looking at me funny and I regret saving Mac from the awkwardness.

"Did you guys talk?" Mac asks.

At the same time Wallace asks, "Did you kiss and make up?" Then he proceeds to make a kissy face. I give his shoulder a shove to get him to stop the gesture.

"Yes we talked, and no we did not _kiss_. He's my lab partner." I push the noodles around on my plate not really wanting them anymore.

"Is that what they're calling it these days? You kids and your lingo." Wallace says laughing hysterically. For his comment I punch him in the arm and feel satisfied when I see him wince.

"Wallace, don't make me use my trusty taser on you."

"Seriously though, V, you two have been dancing around each other for years. Would you just make up your mind?"

"Forget I brought him up okay? Let's move onto another topic," I tell him.

"Are you guys going to that back to school blowout party?" Mac asks.

"When is it?" I know I won't go, but still I'm curious. It's always good to know about parties happening at Hearst.

"Friday. . . Parker and I talked about going."

"How is Parker?" I hadn't seen or talked to her since our conversation about Logan.

"She's good. So . . . are either one of you going?"

"Probably not . . . I have this case I'm working on." It's not untrue . . . I always have a case.

"I might drop by . . . wouldn't want to deny a party the Wallace Fennell experience." Mac and I both laugh at that. I can't deny that it's good to be around my friends again. When did I become so dependent on others? I used to be fine . . . being alone. Now I can't stand it.

* * *

Love is what drives people. Human beings crave and needed it on a fundamental level. It's what helps people feel connected to each other, through this strange feeling. The love between two people, the romantic kind, is unlike any other. It shines more vibrantly and breaks most devastatingly. It is the most unstable of the forms of love and because of that burns all the more beautiful.

Similarly, a person in love is always beautiful. There is a glow and vibrancy to them that simply is not there when love is not present. They walk and talk differently, transformed by the feeling. Perhaps it's just chemicals after all . . . hormones bubbling and firing neurons, which in its own right is gorgeous.

He craves to feel this emotion he's seen so many times, but never felt. He wants to cut it open and watch it bleed. He knows how to mimic and pretend to be in love, but it's all an act. He's never been transformed. Maybe if he can understand the science behind it all then he will be enlightened. Maybe then love's grace will fall upon him.

He must be careful because he does not want him to go too quickly like last time. Her muffled screams sound far away even though she is tied to the chair only a few feet from the table. There, finally. He has peeled back the layers and sees the heart. People say that it's the center of love, but he has never been able to prove it. His eyes shift to the specimen on his table. Earlier the eyes had been filled with fear and underneath that acceptance. The subject made his choice and so was allowed to watch her as it happened.

This gift he gave to his subjects always resulted in the most spectacular results. He was excited and nervous at the same time . . . eager to look love in the eye and cut it open. Sifting his attention back to his task he drove in his scalpel to disconnected the wires. First the superior vena cava and proceeding then to the others. And there was blood, so much blood.

* * *

End of the second chapter. Let me know what you think. As a note: the serial killer's part will always be in third person and Veronica's part will always bee in first person. So, Veronica nad Logan finally talk again. Again, please review. Feedback helps me to improve . . . and just makes me happy! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Thank you to everyone who reviewed the first chapter


	3. Love is Blind

Story: Serial in Neptune

Chapter Title: "Love is Blind"

Content: Warning contains violence

Disclaimer: I do not own Veronica Mars or any of its characters

"Love is Blind"

September 7th

It's seven at night and the sky is nearly dark. If things were better at home I would be there already in my pajamas with two of my favorite guys . . . Ben and Jerry. Instead, I'm heading into the Summerland Park. I know . . . stupid Veronica heading into a dark creepy park at night with only your taser to protect you. Not to mention that no one knows I'm even here. I know that I'm being dumb, but I have to do something. The only thing that can distract me from my problems is a case, which was what this was. Hey, I don't get my jollies entering a known drug trade spot for nothing.

This was actually a favor for Cliff. I'm not sure who owes who now, but I like the idea of getting ahead. From now own I'm going to keep a tally sheet just so that I know. One of his clients, Lula Down, has been accused drug trafficking. However, she claims that it's her boyfriend that deals in drugs and that she was clean. The police did a drug test which proved in the very least that Lula was not on any kind of drugs. So, now here I am at her boyfriend Tommy's known drug spot.

I creep closer to the children's play area using the bushes and trees as cover. There's a special place in hell reserved for men who make drug deals in a playground. I want to nail this Tommy so bad I can taste it. Through the thick bushes hiding me, I can see three figures over by the swings. From their builds and height I'm guessing the three shadowy figures are men. As quietly as I can, I pull my video camera out of my bag and begin recording. Through the lens I can make out the guy in the middle is Tommy, Lula's boyfriend. He looks exactly like the picture Cliff gave me . . . big and stupid. What were the odds that Tommy Kerrigan was in bed with the Fitzpatricks? Hum . . . very likely.

Over the next five minutes I videotape the exchange. When it's over I crouch down and wait for the parties to leave. Sometimes it really pays off to be small. I wait a couple of minutes not wanting to be caught before I get up and brush myself off. Cliff will be pleased. If a picture says a thousand words, then how much does a video of a drug deal say? I'm betting it says that Lula Down is an innocent woman.

A loud snap catches my attention and I look around startled as my heart begins beating wildly in my chest. I scan the darkness searching blindly for the source of the sound. I spot a strange shape moving deep in the trees. It's too big to be an animal . . . we don't have animals that big in Neptune, California. It's also not exactly man shaped either. The curiosity in me forces me to move closer to investigate. From my bag I pull out my taser as I begin to make my way towards the figure. Every sound I make seems so much louder than it actually is. Suddenly, the figure stops and places a large shape on the ground. A few steps closer and I realize that it's a girl on the ground. I can just make out her long hair shinning in the moonlight.

My body acts on its own responding to the age old fight or flight syndrome. Adrenaline makes the decision for me as I rush forward blindly towards the figure. I have forgotten my taser having dropped it to the ground just before I barrel into the six foot tall man who is probably double my weight. I catch him off guard; he stumbles forward and trips over the unconscious girl. He lands with a grunt with his face in the dirt.

The two seconds that follow my brain fully gets caught up with the situation I'm in and I make a move for my taser. Relief floods over my body as my hands wrap around its smooth plastic surface. I spin around to stun the guy when pain explodes on my face. I get a brief look at his black ski mask before everything goes black.

* * *

When the first thing your mind registers is pain then you know you should just roll over and go back to sleep. I tried to do just that, but my bed felt hard and smelled like fresh dirt. Plus, there was this strange sound interjecting itself into dreamland. It wasn't loud enough to demand my full attention, but it was irregular enough to distract me from relaxing in bed.

Opening my eyes several times, I sit up with a jolt when I realize that I'm not safe at home in my bed. The sound that kept penetrating my unconscious mind was crying. My memory is slow to boot up and then it clicks into place renewing the terror I had felt prior to passing out. The girl lying next to me is wailing. She is blindfolded, gagged, and her arms and legs are bound. I move to check on her and my world tilts for a minute.

It takes a moment for everything to stop spinning. "Hey, it's okay. My name is Veronica." I tell her and place my hand on her shoulder. She convulses from my touch for a second, but then shifts closer to me and her crying around the gag increases. I gently remove the cloth muffling her.

"Please, please, oh God, please," she cries over and over like a prayer. I removed her blindfold and gasp as my stomach turns. Her eyelids are sown shut and covered in blood. They are sunken in and I know her eyes are missing behind her closed lids. Only the fact that I have to call the police and help this poor girl keeps me from turning to the side and throwing up everything I have ever eaten or thought of eating.

"I'm going to call the police. You're going to be okay." I'm not sure I believe my words as I fish my phone out of my pocket, but I hope they comfort her. I dial 911 with shaky hands and wait.

"_This is 911, what's your emergency?" _The female voice on the phone sounds calm and soothing.

"This is Veronica Mars. I am in Summerland Park with a girl who has been attacked. She needs an ambulance. I . . . I interrupted her assailant doing something to her and he attacked me. The man is gone." My voice is trembling as I strain to hear the other end of the line over the girl's sobbing.

"_Miss, can you pinpoint your exact location? What state is the girl in?" _

"About one hundred yards from the playground. She—" I am unable to completely the sentence as a sob chokes out of my throat in the place of words. I begin trying to untie the bindings on the girls arms wanting to free her from all this . . . wanting to save her from the horrible crimes committed against her.

"_The police and an ambulance are on the way. Can you ask the girl her name?"_

"What's your name?" I ask parroting the words out without thinking. With her hands free the girl grabs mine and squeezes them as tight as possible. I wince from the pain using it to anchor me back to reality. "What's your name?" This time I make my voice soft, but authoritative.

"Samantha," she hiccups and goes back to saying her pleas. When she says her name I finally recognize her. Samantha looks like a shadow of the girl from the police photos.

"Samantha . . . Samantha Floor?" I prod her to confirm what I already know.

"_Samantha, the missing girl?"_ The 911 operator asks me. Samantha nods and I verbally confirm that Samantha Floor has been found. Could her boyfriend have done this to her?

The wail of sirens sounds wonderful to my ears. Samantha seems to agree because her crying increases, but instead of the despair in her voice earlier this time she sound relieved. I continued to grip her hand. Soon the ambulance arrives along with one of the sheriff's cars cop. Deputy Leo sprints out of the vehicle when he spots me and beats the paramedics to us.

"Veronica, are you okay?" he demands.

"Yes," I choke out as tears begin pouring down my face. Leo looks at Samantha and curses just as the first paramedic arrives. I recognize him as a supporter for my Dad, Charlie Web. He's a big guy with light coco skin and a kind face. Charlie quickly gets to work on Samantha as his partner Rebecca Andrews approaches with the stretcher. While Charlie is a big mountain of a man, Rebecca is small and dainty looking. I know better than to question her strength. The woman had enough spit fire and character for ten people. She and meek Charlie complimented each other as a team.

"What happened?" Leo asks while Rebecca and Charlie together lift Samantha on the stretcher. She refuses to let go of my hand, and I don't complain. I want to keep holding on being a lifeline for her.

"This man . . . he was dumping her here. I saw and intercepted him. We fought and he knocked me unconscious. I woke up and called 911." I give him the brief version.

"Okay, it's time to move her," Charlie says.

I'm not sure if he directed that to me or his partner, but I answered. "I'm coming." Leo looks like he is about to protest so I add. "I'm not leaving her. Call my Dad please." I follow the group over to the ambulance and climb in staying out of the paramedic's way as we rush over to Neptune Memorial.

* * *

The moment Samantha was unloaded into the hospital; Charlie became a traitor and flagged down a doctor to examine me. That is how I ended up sitting with Deputy Leo in an examination room at the ER waiting for the test results. As soon as I was ushered away from Samantha and the adrenaline wore off all my pains made themselves known. The blow to the cheek hurt the most. It had already turned a nasty purplish red color. I wasn't sure if the ice pack on my cheek helped or made it worse. Other then that I was fine . . . well at least I was waiting for a doctor to come in and pronounce me fine.

For most of that time Leo stayed by my side. He stepped away when I was testing and when Deputy Sacks arrived to try and question me. We didn't talk, but I was glad he was there. When the door to the examination room flew open I wasn't surprised to see my Dad storm inside. He stopped in his tracks when he laid eyes on me. I opened my mouth to make some smart comment, but before I could he was wrapping his arms around me hugging me.

"Veronica," he said my name full of relief and exasperation. My dad hugging me sent me hurtling down another fresh wave of tears just when I had finally stopped. Everything would be okay now . . . now that my Dad was here. I didn't have to ask if we were okay again. I felt it. Our issues were settled. "It's going to be okay, sweetheart. I'm here."

I cried for a few more minutes and then my Dad released me to get a better look at my injuries. Her frowned at my burse as if glaring at it would magically heal me. "I'm okay, Dad."

Shaking his head my Dad turns to Leo. "Thanks for staying with her until I could get here."

"No problem, Mr. Mars. I'm going to leave now. I need to get back to work." After saying that, Leo stood to leave. "Veronica . . . you won't hear from anyone at the station tonight, but tomorrow you need to come in and give an official statement." I give him a nod knowing he pulled some favors to get the department to back off even one night.

"I'll be in first thing in the morning." I promise. Leo looks back at me one more time before exiting the examination room.

"Veronica . . . I want you to explain what happened to me," Dad says in that "no-nonsense" tone.

"I was in Summerland Park on a case for Cliff. When I was about to leave I saw this strange moving figure. When I examined it I realized that it was a man putting a bound girl on the ground. I attacked him and the guy struck me and I blacked out. When I came to I called the police." I pause in my retelling, needing a moment to control my emotions. My Dad remains silent, patiently waiting for me to continue. "Dad, the girl I found was Samantha Floor. She . . . that guy removed her eyes and sowed them shut."

"I'm gonna kill Cliff," he vows and then kisses the top of my head.

A soft knock on the door alerted us that we were about to have company. A second later a doctor enters the room. She was short and plump with wild red hair and thick red glasses. She looked more like a librarian than a doctor.

"My name is Doctor Kestler. I've reviewed your file. You seem okay all things considered. You don't have a concussion, which is good. I'm going to prescribe you something for the pain. I want you to take it easy over the next couple of days, especially tomorrow. Other than that you're good to go." She then handed me the prescription. I knew I wouldn't be taking anything stronger than Tylenol. Painkillers had a weird effect on me, and I prefer to avoid them if possible. Being drugged twice with date-rape drugs made me want to avoid any strong medication.

Having said what she needed to Doctor Kestler left just as quickly as she came. At least I could go home now. "You should call Wallace . . . he's a little freaked out," Dad tells me as he helps me off the examination table.

"You told him?"

"I was at Alicia's when Deputy Leo called me. He wanted to come, but I convinced him to stay behind. I told him I'd let him know what was going on as soon as possible."

I nod to my Dad as I make my way out of the hospital with him by my side. I'll call Wallace when we got to the car. I wonder what is happening to Samantha? Had someone gotten her parents? What would the doctors do about her eyes? Something told me that her boyfriend was not the culprit the police should be looking for. What had been done to her was not the work of an enraged boyfriend. It seemed more like a ritualistic crime then a crime of passion. Plus, the man from the park was a little over six feet tall and the news said Colin was five foot seven.

I wanted to go and check on Samantha, but I doubted the doctors, her family, or police would be allowing any visitors right now. Tomorrow I would try and see her. I had already decided against going to classes in the morning. It was unlike me to skip, but I couldn't stand the thought of going to class. Plus, I would have to go down to the station whether I liked it or not.

* * *

So, what did everyone think of this chapter? Samantha has been found, but what about Colin? I know this chapter was lacking in the Logan department, but he'll be in the next chapter. Let me know what you think and how you're liking the story. I like reviews. They make me happy, which then in turn makes me want to write more. Oh, and I'm going to start editing old stories as I'm updating. Just gramatical errors that I only notice after I post the chapter. So, if you get a lot of updates on the story because of it . . . sorry. I'll try and keep the updating minimal. Again, please review and let me know what you think


	4. Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood

Story: Serial in Neptune

Chapter Title: "Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood"

Content: Warning contains violence

Disclaimer: I do not own Veronica Mars or any of its characters

"Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood"

September 8

Bang! I jump a little when Vinnie unexpectedly slams his fist on the metal table of the interrogation room one.

I play off my surprise by arching my eyebrow at him. "Now Vinnie, if you can't play nice I'm afraid I'll have to put you in time out," I tell him and wiggle my index finger at him like he's a little kid.

"How about I put you in a cell Ver-on-i-ca," Vinnie Van Lowe shoots back at me. It seems that the position of Sheriff has gone to his head along with his sense of humor. Either that or he's playing at something. I can never really tell with Vinnie.

I glance over at Cliff sitting next to me. I'm over this and I want him to know it. Dad had insisted that Cliff come with me today. It was either come and make sure I keep my ass out of jail, or my Dad was going to try and recreate the Big Dipper on Cliff's face with his fist. Cliff chose to be my legal counsel.

"Listen, Sheriff . . . Veronica has answered all your questions regarding the incident that night. She has given you everything she knows twice now. Either ask a new question or let my client go." Cliff said.

I want to help, but couldn't stand going over the details of that night one more time. I went over it with my Dad twice, once for Wallace and Mac, and now twice at the Sheriff's office. I'm sore and tired and just want to go home. I cross my arms tightly around my chest to block the world out. As it was I couldn't sleep last night. Every time I nodded off Samantha's face would appear. At first she would be smiling and laughing her bright eyes shining . . . and then the scene would change. Samantha's eyes would bleed and then she would become the girl I found in the woods clawing at me begging for help. After waking up Dad screaming the second time I just gave up and watched infomercials until the sun came up. I meet Cliff at the Sheriff's office at six thirty wanting to get this over with.

"Fine, get out of here, but don't leave town!" Vinnie shouts.

I didn't have to be told twice. I shot out of my seat and was making a hasty exit before anyone else could rise from their seats. I kept my arms crossed and my face down trying to break the sound barrier on the way to my car.

"Veronica!" I look up recognizing Leo's voice. I stop in the hallways and turn to him trying to put bitch Veronica away. Leo didn't deserve her wrath just because I was feeling cranky.

He seemed pleased to see me as he jogged over to my side. "Hey, Leo."

"I saw you sprint out of here, and I wanted to see if you were okay." He eyes my bruised face.

"I'm doing fine considering. Have you heard anything about Samantha . . . I was just on my way to see her . . . or at least to try and see her."

Leo shakes his head. "Same old Veronica . . . digging around for information," he said in a light tone teasing me.

I give him my best innocent smile. "Who, me?" I say in a mock shocked tone.

"Yeah, you . . . Samantha is not doing well. Only the police and the family are allowed access to her right now, doctor's orders. The boyfriend is still missing and we're out looking for him."

"Thanks, Leo." He gives me a slight nod and turns to go back to his desk.

I leave the station and head home. I'll give seeing Samantha a shot tomorrow. I wonder if there is any way to get my hands on the official police report. I could ask Leo, but I'd rather save that for an emergency. I've jeopardized his job enough.

* * *

September 9

Today, I feel a strange mixture of exhaustion and nervousness. Still, it feels good to be at school and away from worrying people. My Dad keeps hovering over me . . . making up for lost "Father and Daughter" time would be my guess. Plus, he always gets a little smothery after I've had a near miss. If I were a cat I wonder how many lives I have left . . . two? Wallace and Mac also pulled a joint smother session coming over last night to watch movies at my apartment with Dad. Now to top the sundae off I have class today with Logan. I am not looking forward to that confrontation.

"Yo, V!" someone calls out my nickname. I know from the voice who is calling me instantly. I stop and turn as Weevil catches up. The moment he sees my bruised face he stops and a flutter of furry crosses his face before he pushes it down and finishes making his way over to me. I haven't seen Weevil since before summer. He looks the same only now the limp he had before is gone.

"Hey, Weevil . . . what's up?"

He frowns at me. "Don't "what's up" me girl. What happened? Who did this to you?" He gestures to my face. "Did Logan do this?"

"Logan? Where would you ever get that idea? Logan would never hit me."

"Veronica . . . just give me a name."

I shake my head. I used to be so independent. How did I get so many overprotective people in my life? I'm a little surprised by Weevil's immediate conclusion that Logan was who decided to rearrange my face. I knew they had a "hate" and "somewhat less hate" relationship, but this is ridiculous.

"If I knew who did this I would gladly give you a name and then sleep at night like a baby . . . but I don't know who did this. I was on a case and stumbled on something else. The guy who attacked me was wearing a mask. All I know was that he was tall, but not abnormally tall."

"Where did this happen?"

"Summerland Park"

"Stay away from that place Veronica. What were you thinking? That place isn't even safe during the day anymore. I used to be able to take my niece there . . . now the kids playground is littered with used needles."

I nod. "I know I was going down there to bust the lead dealer. It won't help though. Someone else will just take his place."

"V, when you figure out who hit you, do me a favor and don't go in bustin heads by yourself. Call the police or somebody to go with you, and I do mean _someone_ and not just your dog." Weevil gives me a hard look trying to convey how much he means it.

"Of course, I'm not stupid Weevil."

He shakes his head. "No, you're not stupid, but sometimes I think you're too smart for your own good. I'll see you V, I got a broken pipe to fix."

* * *

I could have gone to Biology class late . . . or even better skipped it all together. But, I didn't want to miss two days of school and this purple bruise that looked strangely like an upside-down heart was going to be staying with me for a while. It was better to have this out with Logan sooner rather than later. I knew that if I was late, Logan would have no problem causing a scene in front of the whole class.

So I arrived early as always knowing Logan would show up soon. Was it sad that I was nervous or conscious of my bruise? I'm not vein, but I also didn't like looking as if I got the crap beaten out of me. Logan enters the room quickly and silently; stalking straight towards me eyes zeroed in on my face. Crap . . . someone beat me to telling him. Great, that means he's had time to stew.

He charges up to me and stops next to my seat. I glare up at him ready to meet his challenge and anger. I expected him to yell. I was prepared from Logan to scream about me getting myself killed and how reckless I am. I wasn't prepared for his eyes staring down on me . . . his gaze so hot I thought I would melt. I am shocked when he gives my whole body a once over sending a flash of pleasure through my entire being. His intense brown eyes finally rest on my bruised face.

Logan reaches out and gently touches my cheek despite how taunt and ridged his body is teetering on the edge of violence. His jaw twitches as he runs his hand from my check to cup the back of my head. My heart betrays me, pounding away wildly in reaction to his touch. I can't tear my eyes away from his even though I want to. Quickly . . . so fast I couldn't track the movement, Logan's other arm wraps around my forearm, yanking my upward out of my seat and into his arms.

He buries his face in my neck making the hair on the back of my neck and arms stand up. His breath is warm against my pulse as my heart now threatens to burst right out of my chest. I try not to think about our bodies flush against each other or my rising desire. It's been a long time since I've been held like this or felt like this. I want him to kiss me . . . I want him in a carnal way so bad my teeth ached.

Before I can act on the impulse Logan is pushing me away. "What the hell were you thinking, Veronica? Tell me what happened." His tone is demanding inviting no argument. "Veronica," he says my name in warning and exacerbation when I don't immediately explain everything to him.

I don't know how to tell him. When telling my Dad or Vinnie . . . it was all about the facts. I was telling them the clues and evidence I had. It had been clinical like and not at all about emotion or how I felt. Telling Logan wouldn't be anything like that.

"I . . . Cliff asked me to try and clear this client of his from drug trafficking charges. I went to the park to get the evidence since that's where his client's boyfriend was selling the drugs. After I got the video was when I heard something in the woods. I saw a strange looking shadow moving ahead of me and went for a closer look. When I saw it was a man putting a girl on the ground . . . I just reacted. I charged at him and knocked him over. I didn't even think about my taser until he was on the ground. I had dropped it and went to grab it while he was down, but before I could taser him he hit me." I pause not really wanting to keep going.

"Go on, what happened next," Logan prods. I look up into his eyes, and see him teetering on the edge of violence. I know that look on his face. It was the same expression he wore before he mopped the floor with Gory. It scares me sometimes . . . the violence he is capable of . . . the violence I can push him into. I know Logan can't stand the thought of anyone hurting me. "Veronica," he says my name softly this time. He pushes back the anger and I can see the struggle in his eyes.

"When he hit me I was knocked unconscious. When I woke up . . . the girl was crying. I never heard a human being make sounds like that before. She was bound and blindfolded," my voice wavers as the tears spillover my eyes. Slowly, Logan takes me back into his arms and holds me. "I removed the blindfold and her eyes were sown shut. He removed her eyes, Logan. There was blood all over her face. She was crying and crying. I was scared."

Finally admitting how afraid I was out loud feels good. Somehow acknowledging the fear takes some of it away. I stop holding back and let myself melt into Logan's embrace; clutching him as tight as I can knowing I'm safe in his arms. I'm always safe with him. It was one of the few truths in my life.

We stand like that for a few minutes. Eventually, I calm down and the tears stop. I had forgotten how good Logan smells . . . his colon and under that the scent that's just him. Why couldn't things have worked out between us? Why did everything have to always fall apart? I have missed being this close to Logan. No one else has ever been able to make me feel safe and at home.

I realize that we have been standing holding each other in the middle of Bio Lab for quite some time. How has no one walked in on us yet? I don't relish the idea of someone walking in on this vulnerable moment I'm having, so I pull back. Logan doesn't let me go and keeps his arms on my shoulders.

"Thanks," I tell him.

"No problem, that's what I'm here for." Logan smiles down at me. I love that smirk. Logan leans in towards my face . . . leaning in to kiss me. I yank away from him panicking. "I can't do this . . . I'm sorry," I say. I grab my bag and run out of the classroom as fast as I can ignoring him when Logan calls after me.

* * *

Michael Hunnington looked like a simple enough guy. When people pass him on the street they never look his way. One word described him perfectly . . . average. He had plain ash brown hair with bits of steel grey at the temples. His eyes were a murky brown and his face was neither handsome nor ugly . . . it was simply average.

He cultivated his mediocrity striving to blend in from his clothing to his choice of car, which was a gold Honda. Even his wife matched him, plain girl who taught second grade at the local public school. Michael learned from his father that in life it was easier to blend in and do what society expected of you. So far, he has followed that to the letter. He was a decedent student in high school and then in college. He never won awards, but wasn't at the bottom of the barrel either. He got a job as an accountant and married, Susan from his church two years out of college. A year into their marriage they bought their first house. Soon after, Susan became pregnant with their son, Mathew.

Michael liked his life orderly and predictably. He followed the same schedule every day with no deviations. Like all other things in his life, his exercise routine was just as regimented. Every day he ran through the park two blocks from his house. He chose the same path and kept a steady pace while jogging and listening to his ipod.

Normally, Michael watched where he was going. But for a few moments he closed his eyes and jogged blind knowing that he knew the path like he knew how to get to the bathroom from his bed in the middle of the night. He knew exactly when the bend in the path was. He briefly wondered what it would be like to be someone else.

In that moment his feet connected with something on the path and Michael fell face first into the cement scrapping his face in bright hot pain. That's what he got for wishing something more from his life. He slowly picked himself up and took a good look at what he stumbled upon. The instant he did all the color drained from his face and he just let go. He screamed and was barely aware of the warm and wet sensation on his pants as he quickly scurried away from what was in front of him. He could hear people running to him answering the call of his screams as he stared at the body in disbelief.

* * *

first, thank you to my reviewers. I really appreciate you taking the time to let me know what you think. So, what do you think of this chapter? I promised some Logan and Veronica time last chapter and I delivered. So . . . did you think for a moment that Michael was the serial killer? anyways, soon you'll be getting clues as to who the killers is while Veronica works on solving the case. Next time: who's body was found in the park? Veronica tries to see Samantha and wonders what to do about Logan. Please keep reading and please review. Let me know what you thought. Oh, and if any of you were wondering the chapter title is from an oldies song. Just thought it worked here.


	5. Desperate and Wanting

Story: Serial in Neptune

Chapter Title: "Desperate and Wanting"

Content: Warning contains violence

Disclaimer: I do not own Veronica Mars or any of its characters

"Desperate and Wanting"

* * *

Recap: Veronica gives her report down at the Sheriff's station. Weevil and Veronica talk and Weevil asks if Logan had hit her causing the bruise on her face. Veronica tells him Logan would never hurt her. In Biology Logan seeing Veronica after the attack. They argue, Veronica tells Logan about the attack, and then they almost kiss. The end is of a jogger finding a body.

* * *

September 9th

He was a fucking stalker. That was the only thing that explained why he, Dick Casablancas, was pressed against the building silently watching Mac. When did he get that pathetic? It didn't make sense. He had been with more women then he could count prettier than her. He generally didn't really like smart girls. He liked his women dumb with big boobs. But, something about her stirred in him things he just didn't understand. Dick didn't know when he actually first started noting her. At first she had been a way to tease and torment Beaver . . . Cassidy. Then when he died she was a painful reminder of his dead brother. Every time he looked at her all he could see was how he treated someone he should have protected. Maybe if he had stood up to Beav in front of their Dad then things might have been different. Sometime after that Mac became the only real connection he had to his kid brother. He and Cassidy hung out all the time, but it was more like Beav was his silent shadow. He knew nothing about who he was, but she did.

It angered him that he had feelings for her beyond getting in her pants, which he did want to do. Her sweet smile and innocence made him want to bang her till she couldn't walk straight. She hated him though, and it drove him crazy. He hated that geek boyfriend of hers. They argued a lot lately and it worried him. He wasn't used to worrying about anyone.

Dick always looked forward to catching a glimpse of the petite brunette after his Western Civilization class. The fact that she was always in the courtyard after that class was probably the only reason he went. She was there at the same time every day . . . either on her computer or reading. He liked it when she read. He could watch all the different emotions on her face.

Why couldn't he just go up to her like he did so many other girls . . . but then again he had tried to convey what he felt at the beach and she shot him down. Dick wasn't used to getting shot down. So, he made himself be satisfied in catching glimpses of her before she met up with that pencil-dick boyfriend of hers.

He saw them fighting, but couldn't hear the angry words thrown at each other. It made him mad when Mac's eyes began to fill with tears. He wanted to walk over to them and lay the geek on the ground for upsetting her . . . which was how he knew he was screwed. He had it as bad as Logan pinning away for some broad. He was Dick Casablancas, the guy who could get any girl he wanted . . . except that girl. He held himself back as the boyfriend stormed off leaving Mac sitting on the bench crying.

"Hey Dick," a seductive voice said behind him.

Dick turned with a smile, which was his automatic response to a sexy voice like that. She was cute with chocolate brown curly hair and a huge rack. "Why hello . . . do I know you?"

The girl in front of him smiled even bigger. "My name is Miranda. We met at a party last weekend."

"Of course," he replied, but didn't really remember her. Dick put his arms around the girl . . . Melissa? Melody? Well . . . it didn't matter what her name was really. He began steering her away. "Care to come back to my place for a little recap?"

Dick glanced back once at the bench and his heart did the strange fluttering thing. He didn't like it. He wanted to go to her, but he also wanted to run away screaming. She was too good for him. He knew he could never have her. The girl at his side giggled and Dick sighed already over her, but he still led her to his car.

* * *

I walk towards Neptune Memorial with a bouquet of mixed flowers in my arms with a plan already formed in my mind. Before I reach the large imposing glass and gold doors I turn my cell phone off. I don't want a repeat of the last time my cell phone went off in the hospital . . . Nurse Ratchet bit my head clean off. I make my way over to intensive care unit knowing the hospital by heart. I've been here so many times I'm surprised the staff doesn't know me by sight yet.

Leo had given me Samantha's room number since asking at the front desk for her was a sure way to get security called on you. The media has been hanging around the hospital praying for a glimpse of her. Thank God that my name was never released as the person who found Samantha otherwise the vultures would be circling me too. I think that Dad had called in a favor with Vinnie.

I make a left at radiology and through the large double doors that mark the entrance of intensive care unit. I keep my head down as I pass the nurses' station using the bouquet to block my face . . . just in case someone recognizes me. It's not hard to spot which room is Samantha's, since it's the only one with a deputy on guard out front. Before I can get very close to room 202, Deputy Sacks spots me.

"Veronica, what are you doing here?" he demands and gets up out of his chair.

I put on my best smile and approach hoping that I've won some points delivering donuts to the station while my Dad was temporarily Sheriff. "Why Deputy Sacks . . . it's good to see you. You look good." I lay on the sugar, but not too sweetly.

When Sacks notices my bruised face some of the fight goes out of his body. "Veronica, you can't be here."

"I . . . I just wanted to see how she's doing." I nod down at the flowers in my hand.

Sacks opens him mouth to say something when the door to the room opens. A tall beefy looking man steps out looking bent on wringing someone's neck . . . and he's looking at me. His face is bright red a stark contrast to his snow white hair.

"What's going on here? Are you another reporter?" the man demands of me. A woman pops her head out of the room and seems small and timid compared to the giant of a man next to her.

"George, that's enough!" she barks loudly despite her petite size and mousy appearance. I instantly like her. The woman is about my height with her white hair long and braided behind her. Her eyes are red and puffy, but they have a strength in them that I can appreciate. I'm guessing that these are Samantha's parents.

"I'm sorry . . . I just want to see if Samantha was better."

"You know our daughter?" Samantha's mother asks coming completely out of the room and around her husband.

"Not exactly . . ." I falter for the words not sure how to go about this. Why hadn't I thought about family? I had just wanted to check up on Samantha . . . and maybe ask her a few questions. I was officially going to hell, but the detective in me just couldn't let things lie. I wanted to solve this . . . and not just for me. I wanted to give Samantha peace of mind that whoever hurt her was behind bars and would pay for the rest of their natural lives.

"Mr. and Mrs. Floor, this is Veronica Mars. She's the girl who found your daughter and called 911," Deputy Sacks informs the parents.

Mrs. Floor quickly rushes over and envelops me in a fierce hug so tight my ribs protest. She starts crying thanking me over and over making me squirm. I'm not very good with appreciation. It always makes me embarrassed and it's something I avoid like the plague. I didn't want the Floor's appreciation. Anyone would have helped Samantha.

After a few minutes Mrs. Floor finally lets me go wiping her eyes furiously and accepts the flowers I brought with an appreciative smile. Mr. Floor is crying too and looks like he's about to initiate a hug-fest as well. He must have seen the expression on my face because at the last second he offers me his hand instead. A handshake I'm comfortable with.

"We can never thank you enough, Ms. Mars, for what you did for our daughter," Mr. Floor tells me keeping a tight hold on my hand.

I smile from ear to ear like I do sometimes when I'm embarrassed. "It was nothing really . . . how is Samantha? I just wanted to see if she was . . . doing better." I know she isn't okay and never will be again. Some psycho cut her eyes out.

Mr. Floor releases my hand and a shadow creeps across his face. It's his wife that answers my question. "Samantha . . . she's not doing very well. The doctors have her heavily medicated."

I merely nod not knowing what else to say. "Would you like to sit with her for a bit?" Mr. Floor asks. I nod again and follow Samantha's parents into her room.

She's lying on the hospital bed slightly propped up on some pillows. Her eyes are wrapped with white bandages and around her head hiding what is missing. I feel momentarily nauseous as I remember what she looked like that night. Right now, she looks peaceful breathing steadily. I take a seat at her side guessing she is asleep at the moment.

"Veronica right?" Samantha's mom says behind me.

"Yes?"

She looks embarrassed as she glances from her husband and then back to me. "Would you mind . . . sitting with Samantha for a few minutes. Frank and I haven't left her side since we got here. We would just run down to the cafeteria and right back. I just don't want to leave her alone in case she wakes up."

I smile trying to reassure the parents. "Of course, I'll stay with her."

Mrs. Floor thanks me again before leaving with her husband. The room is quiet except for the machine monitoring Samantha's heart. I look back at the girl lying on the bed. There is so much I don't know about Samantha. The quick background check I did on her last night didn't really reveal much. Samantha is a senior at Hearst and was majoring in History. She paid for college herself taking out loans the whole way through and working as a waitress at Smoky Bill's Barbeque. She's had one speeding ticket her whole life. I didn't know what really mattered . . . the personal bits and pieces that together make up a whole person. I wish I did know something more about her. I know that whoever she was, Samantha will never be that girl again.

It felt awkward just sitting and watching her in her medicated sleep. What did she go through from the time she was taken to when I found her? The possibilities were to horrific to give any real thought. I reach out and carefully take her hand into mine.

"Samantha . . . I don't know if you can hear me . . . or if this would even mean anything to you . . . but I promise you I will figure out who did this to you and make them pay," I vow to her. I wasn't expecting a response and instead listen to her steady heart rate while I waited for her parents to return.

* * *

It didn't take long for the Floors to come back from the hospital cafeteria and I skipped out as soon as possible. I needed to get down to business and figure out how to get my hands on the police report. I walk over to my car looking around and checking the back before getting inside. I learned the hard way to always check your back seat.

I turn the engine on and reach into my shoulder bag for my phone and turn it back on. The second it's powered up it beeps alerting me to a missed call. Looking at the screen I'm surprised I have missed three calls. I hadn't been in the hospital for long.

Quickly, I dial my voice-box. "_You have three messages, first message_," the mechanical female voice informs me. "_Hey, V_," Wallace greets me sounding happy. "_Give me a call and let me know how you're doing_." I delete his recording. I'll give Wallace a quick call in a minute.

I continue on to listen to my second message. "_Veronica? Where are you?_" my Dad sounds worried and anxious, which is never a good thing. "_Listen you need to call me back immediately. They found the boyfriend Colin's body. Call me back honey._" I'm a little shocked by this information, but at the same time I never thought that Colin had been the guy to hurt Samantha.

I listen to my final message. "_Veronica, it's me Mac . . . I . . . I just want to talk. Max and I broke up and I could use my best friend right now_." I can tell that Mac's been crying and it breaks my heart.

I dial my Dad first needing to know the details. He picks up on the second ring. "_Honey? Are you alright? Where are you?_"

"I'm at the hospital. I came to see Samantha."

There is a brief pause on the other end. "_How is she?_"

"She's sedated at the moment. I talked to her parents," I explain to him. "Tell me about Colin."

Again, Dad hesitates like he doesn't want to tell me something. I know from his reluctance that whatever he has to say it's bad. "_I don't have a lot of details. He was found this morning by a jogger in Summerland Park._"

"That's where I found Samantha."

"_Yes_," Dad says in that worried "father" voice. "_He had his heart and eyes cut out. That's all I know so far._" His eyes had been taken just like Samantha. Unlike her boyfriend, Samantha was still alive with her heart where it belonged beating in her chest . . . was that what I interrupted?

"How do you know this?"

"_Vincent called me. He wants our input on this._" I'm shocked that Vinnie went to my Dad with this information. The idea of the sheriff voluntarily giving us information was strange and foreign concept.

"Why would he want our input?" What I was really asking was: what's in it for Vinnie? The man didn't do anything without some personal gain to it.

"_I think he doesn't know exactly how to do his current job so he's relying on his old skills. Plus, we can do a lot of things that he can't._" It made sense. We would do the grunt work and Vinnie could use that to ride the train to success.

"How much is he sharing?"

"_They're performing the autopsy at the coroner's office right now. Vinnie will hand us over copies of the investigation so far on Samantha and the results of the autopsy on Colin._"

"He's giving us everything?" I ask astonished.

"_Yes, but not openly. Veronica . . . think you can pick up the case file from Vinnie? I was going to but I have a lead on this adultery case I'm on._"

A smile breaks across my face. "Sure, no problem."

"_Alright, sweetie, don't be too eager. Remember, Vincent doesn't have to give us any information. Don't wait up I'll probably be home late._"

"Okay Dad. I love you."

"_Love you too,_" Dad tells me and hangs up the phone. I never thought in a million years that Vinnie Van Lowe becoming sheriff might actually not be that bad. My Dad would have been better, but so far Vinnie didn't seem too bad.

I bask in the glow of not having to jump through hoops for information for all of two seconds. Then I proceeded to call Mac to do the best friend thing while driving to the coroner's office. Hey, a girl's got to multitask. I'd swing by pick up the case files, some Chunky Monkey and Cherie Garcia, and chick flicks.

* * *

Sorry its been so long since I posted a chapter. I blame writers block. Scientists should come up with a cure for that. Pretty low key chapter. I am a Dick and Mac fan as you can tell. Dick Cassablancas is an interesting character in my opinion. He has these "vulnerable" moments in the show that he grows and learns and we see past the jackass pretty boy surfer. I think he and Mac make a great pair. I'll get the next chapter written and up soon. Promise. Let me know what you think. Please review. Its much appreciated.


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